The Seduction

You try so hard when they are sick. He’s very sick.

When I cooked, I’d cut up a little liver before I left, and he ate it. Do you think that’s good?

He is a significant figure. There’s a treatise on him I am reading now. There is to be a thoughtful conclusion forthcoming, I hope.

It took a long time for historians to develop the no­tion of objectivity, because of their compulsiveness, which is a never-you-mind that overcomes logical thinking.

This calls for an explanation. I’d say it does.

Let me see: Do I remember? I ask myself. Let me see: you are too big! I did not know what to do. I did not know if I was pushing or if I was just trying to push. I did not know the difference.

Despite the promising start—I was so excited—things went badly, but I haven’t spoken ill of him. I’ve heard others say, “What a bastard!” I’ve heard his dreadful sobbing. He has clutched at me. He has spo­ken reasonably.

“Yes,” I said.

“Darling,” he said, and I got frightened. And then he said, “I was afraid to touch you.” I let him hold my hand. I could not tell what he wanted—a theatri­cal marriage? I’m sympathetic to the most simple human act.